A Boy Brushed Red
by sKyLaR KnIgHt
Summary: Yatogami Kuroh couldn't be more irritated. He was a high ranking student, and captain of the kendo club at his high school. Why the hell did that short hoodlum have to literally run into his life and ruin everything with this HOMRA gang and "mission to save the King"? KurohYata
1. Prologue

A/N: This fic is AU. I don't know where the idea came from, but just go with it.

Please read and enjoi!

Disclaimer: I don't own K.

0—A Boy Brushed Red/Prologue—0

As he stared dead straight into the loaded barrel of the 9mm. revolver, Yatogami Kuroh couldn't help but wonder how his day had managed to change so drastically.

If he wasn't mistaken, it was still Friday.

Intelligent quicksilver hues briefly flicked away from the weapon, that would ultimately reap his death, and off to his right, where the short fool who got him into the current situation lay unconscious. Chestnut hair curled into the pale face that was presented, bruises that were shaped like fingers were starting to form on the petite male's neck. A small sense of irritation shot through the long haired teen at the sight of the hoodlum. Why was _he_ allowed the bliss of being knocked out while Kuroh had to face down being put to sleep permanently? His eyes roved over the still form once more.

Yata Misaki.

It was entirely _his_ fault that Kuroh had missed his midterm. It was _his_ fault that Kuroh's uniform was soiled with a multiplicity of substances and would most likely need to be sent to the dry cleaning. It was _his _fault that he was fixing to be murdered with a highly illegal weapon that shouldn't have ever seen the light—or night in this case—of Japan's shores.

The young man straightened his back, which had slumped in his momentary lapse of despair, and turned his attention once more to the man who seemed intent on taking his life.

And as the man cocked the hammer of the gun, one last thought sped through Kuroh's subconscious before he closed his eyes.

_To think… This all started with that little hoodlum bumping into me this morning…._

0—Prolouge/End—0

A/N: If this does well, I'll post the next chapter within a week. If not… well… Yeah.

Thanx for reading!


	2. One

A/N: Thanx to **Zylia16, Distant love, Mayuko-chan, **and **p0pcorn-punk** for reviewing!

Oh, and I made them each a year younger; most Japanese high school students graduate at 17, not 18 (Kuroh's age in cannon).

Please read and enjoi!

Disclaimer: I don't own K.

0—A Boy Brushed Red/One—0

The day started off as unremarkable as any other.

Yatogami Kuroh woke up a few seconds before his alarm could go off; a pale hand stretching out from beneath his thin covers to shut off the grating sound before it worked his nerves. As soon as the button was clicked, the young man carefully sat up, neatly folding his sheets as he went. There was no grogginess in the teen's eyes when he sat up; after all, this had been his sleeping schedule for the greater half of his life, so he was accustomed to waking at what others his age would consider an ungodly hour.

Kuroh climbed to his feet in a single, smooth move and made his way to his closet, pulling out his kendo uniform. He started with the hakama, tying up the himo with the grace of an expert before moving on to the kendogi.

As soon as he finished dressing, he reached for his personal shinai; grasping the kendo weapon with such familiarity that it would be silly to think that he wasn't knowledgeable with the way of the sword.

After his usual training of about an hour and a half, he half jogged to the bathroom and resumed his morning schedule, showering briskly and efficiently before donning his school uniform.

He made breakfast, ate, made his lunch, packed it, and then set out for school.

See? Pretty unremarkable… That is, until he came to an intersection in the sidewalk.

Kuroh halted in his steps.

A white cat just crossed his path.

The young man debated his next move. While it was true that a black cat crossing one's path brought on misfortune, would it be too far of a stretch to assume that a white cat crossing one's path brought on good luck? He wasn't entirely sure. He couldn't recall ever hearing about someone having a miraculously good day after running across one…

The male edged the sidewalk, watching with avid interest as the cat lazily sauntered up to him, looking up at him with unusual mismatched eyes. They stared at one another for a few moments, each of them sizing the other up. It didn't take much to gain the trust of this particular cat. After the brief stare down, the feline was already moving forward, rubbing her cheeks happily against Kuroh's legs, and mewling hungrily up at him.

Quicksilver eyes darted down the road, ensuring that no one else was nearby. After all, he was the captain of the Kendo team; there was no way he'd be able to live it down if one of his school's many rivals caught sight of him fraternizing with a fluffy kitty. Upon seeing no one, the young man lowered himself to his knees, and threaded his hand gently through her fur, allowing a microscopic smile to spread across his lips as the cat purred happily in response.

"Ohayo, Neko-chan." He hummed, pausing briefly as his hands slid over the cat's side. Kuroh noted that he could see several of the cat's ribs, protruding almost painfully out of her sides, frowning lightly at the animal's malnourished state. Being the noble soul that he was, the male pulled away briefly, pulling his satchel open before pulling out a few items from his lunch that he could survive without.

The Kendo captain snagged a couple of octopus sausages and a bit of the seaweed from his seaweed salad and held them out gingerly towards the hungry female.

The ivory cat dove for the hand that held the sausages, devouring them with such vigor that it made Kuroh wonder if she had _ever_ eaten octopus sausages. She licked his fingers clean before licking her maw, mismatched eyes seeking out his once more with what he swore was hope.

To the cat's disappointment, however, Kuroh retracted the hand that now smelled of meat and cat breath, choosing instead to extend the seaweed.

The feline didn't move to accept the food. She didn't even spare it a look. Her eyes were still locked with Kuroh's.

"Come on now, Neko-chan… Eat it."

Perhaps it was due to his morning absentmindedness that he didn't hear, or perhaps it was merely because the cat before him was truly that engaging, but Kuroh didn't hear the sounds of frantic running and labored breath before it was too late.

One moment the teen was coaxing the cat into eating the healthier of the two foods he had wanted to give her, the next, something thumped into his back with great force and a small form in the shape of a boy was flying headfirst over him.

"Oh shi—!" A strangled voice squawked; the start of what Kuroh expected to be profanity was cut off as the petite form collided onto the ground, the loud crash breaking the tranquility of the pleasant Friday morning.

Kuroh climbed to his feet, dropping the seaweed to the ground as he made to move towards the chestnut haired teen that was slumped over, unmoving.

Just as he was but a couple of feet away from the still form, the small male lurched to his feet in a single movement. He didn't even use his hands to brace himself against ground to assist him in standing. They were, however, clutching at his forehead, leaving only his mouth on display, which was curled into a grimace at the corners, gnashing his teeth together.

"Excuse—."

"Fucking hell, that hurt!" Hands were wrenched away from the petite male's face, revealing a red forehead and nose. Large hazel hues immediately set on Kuroh, who had been cut off with the smaller male's coarse language. "YOU!" He exclaimed, marching over to where the kendo captain stood, staying back far enough so that he wouldn't have to crane his neck to look up at him. "This is your fault! Why the hell did you get in my way?!"

Kuroh frowned at the shorter male's tone before he opened his mouth to respond to the riled teen's inquiry, only to be cut off once more.

"Why weren't you paying attention to the road? You should have moved out of the way when you heard me!"

_There's that tone again._ Kuroh felt his eyebrow twitch with irritation.

They were still in Japan, weren't they?

Who the hell was this short kid, talking to Kuroh with _that_ tone?

The kendo captain felt his back straighten ever so slightly as he stared down his nose at the impertinent _BRAT_ that stood before him. "_Excuse_ me." He cut in curtly, startling the wavy haired teen from his rant. "But I do believe that I am not the one in the wrong here. You were running _towards_ me while I was faced _away _from the direction where you had originated. Where I stand, _you_ ran into _me._"

The brat sputtered indignantly before stepping forward, staring up at Kuroh with his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "I was in the middle of something very important, I wasn't paying attention. Why weren't you more attentive to your surroundings?"

The tone was present once more. It was beginning to work on Kuroh's nerves.

"How old are you?" Kuroh asked, not willing to take such abuse from someone so clearly younger than himself.

The teen blinked up at him for a second before a sneer crept across his face. "Why? Is there something wrong with how I'm addressing you? Does it bother you?"

The kendo captain's hands formed fists at his sides. "Just tell me." He bit out. "How old are you?"

"Older than you." The chestnut haired teen sniggered for a couple of moments, sobering up at the sight of Kuroh crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm eighteen."

Kuroh's face shut down, forming a blank mask. _This brat is _older_ than me?_ He eyed the petite male that stood before him with disbelief. He looked like he was about fourteen, maybe even fifteen… Damn babyface.

The eighteen year old stared up at him with a widening grin, evidently enjoying Kuroh's dismay. "Hehe. Yeah, that's what I thought. I've every right to talk to you in whatever tone I wish. How old are you, anyways, stone-face?"

"Seventeen." He opened his mouth to admonish the _older_ teen for his words nonetheless, only to be cut off by the shrill sound of his phone alarm going off. It was set to let him know that it was only five minutes until—.

_Kami! School starts in five minutes! _Cool gray eyes widened as far as they could go, swiftly hitching his satchel over his shoulder so he could start off towards his school.

"Oi, where do you think that you're going, stone-face?"

Kuroh was held back by a surprising amount of strength, glancing over his shoulder to see the irritated expression that the elder of the two held when he fell was back on. _I don't have time for this. I have a midterm to complete!_ Just when he was about to shrug the hand off and go about his merry way, the sounds of multiple footsteps broke the silence of their small standoff.

The teens turned in unison to the direction where the _brat_ had came from, eyes widening at the sight of seven men with semi-automatic weapons in their hands and—and _kami_, they were trained on the pair of them!

"That's him! Shoot them both!" The one from the back called.

"What do they—?" Kuroh started.

"What do you think they mean to do, moron? Run!" A small hand stretched out and snatched up the long haired teen's hand, dragging him into multiple alleyways with such precision that the taller of the two couldn't help but feel that they would be safe.

A gunshot sounded and a bullet ricocheted off of a lamp post and imbedded itself on the ground where they were standing just seconds ago.

Maybe he spoke too soon.

"By the way, stone-face. The name's Yata Misaki." The chestnut haired teen flashed the kendo captain a manic grin, and pulled them into another alley, narrowly dodging another stray bullet.

Yata.

"And don't worry. Unlike other stuck up asses, I don't care for suffixes, just Yata's fine!"

_I'm going to kill him. If these thugs don't do it first! _He swore to himself, _and kami help them if they do. If anyone's killing this annoying brat,_ his hand tightened a bit on the shorter male's wrist as they dodged between trashcans and mounds of newspaper and cardboard boxes. _If anyone's killing this brat, it's going to be me._

0—One/End—0

A/N: So yeah!

Thanx for reading!


	3. Two

A/N: Thanx to **hakezu, Mayuko-chan, Anas, **and **Caroline999 **for reviewing!

Here's the next one; please read and enjoi!

Disclaimer: I don't own K.

0—A Boy Brushed Red/Two—0

Kuroh managed to pull himself to a stop whenever he felt the slight tug at the hem of his uniform's shirt, which had managed to fall out of its tucked in state during their mad dash to stay alive.

"I… I think here's good." Yata huffed, placing his dainty hands on his hips as he bent over ever so slightly as if it would aid him in catching his breath. "…damn… Should've brought my skateboard…" He muttered under his breath before inhaling one more deep breath and lifting his head to face the kendo captain. A grin spread across his face all too soon.

Kuroh shifted ever so slightly at the expression, a frown automatically forming whenever the short male smirked. "What is it?"

The chestnut haired male grin widened into a smirk as he pointed to Kuroh's head. "Looks like you have a passenger, stone-face. How the hell did you not feel her nails digging into your scalp?"

"Eh?" The pristine male cautiously lifted a hand up, and when his arm moved, he felt a sudden sensation of four legs crawling off of his head and onto his arm before jumping onto the safety of the ground. "Neko-chan?" He eyed the stiff cat, moving to scoop her up once more, only to watch as the ivory feline flinched away from his touch, sending him an accusing expression before taking off in a random direction.

"Still don't feel the wounds she left?" Yata walked into Kuroh's line of vision, his hazel hues alight with amusement and intent on his forehead. "Looks like you're bleeding a little, there."

A stern frown appeared on the raven haired male's lips. "It is no one's fault but yours." He murmured, absently lifting a hand when he felt a small trickle of warm liquid drop down from his hairline. When he pulled his hand back, it revealed a small drop of blood.

"Aw, come off it, stone-face." Yata was scowling all of a sudden, his expression darkening more and more by the second. "I didn't ask to be chased either; it just so happens that they caught me before I could get to the King."

_Do I even want to ask?_ Kuroh wondered, not mocking in the slightest. He searched his thoughts as he reached into his satchel for a napkin to help dab at the stray drops of blood. _Yes. I've been put in a situation where I am running from people who possess illegal weapons… and they appear to have access to a lot of them if their carelessness in shooting is anything to go by. _"Just what have you gotten me into, Yata-san?"

The brat's expression twisted as if he had eaten something particularly sour. "I thought that I said just 'Yata' was fine. Don't bother with suffixes with me. It'll just end up irritating me."

The kendo captain barely refrained from rolling his eyes. "Aa. What sort of situation are we now in, _Yata_?" He asked, putting emphasis on the shorter male's suffix-less name.

"Well…" The petite male bit his lower lip, hesitating for a brief moment before plowing on. "I'm part of this _organization_, and Mikoto-sama, the King, has been kidnapped by these guys—not that he can't escape, there's no way that they can hold someone as strong as Mikoto-sama against his will, but the thing is—."

_He sure likes to rant about this 'Mikoto'._ Kuroh mused, his mind automatically tuning out information useless to him… which was pretty much everything that came from the brat's mouth after 'Mikoto-sama'.

"… so I am trying to get information on the layout so that we can go and kick their asses, rescue Mikoto-sama, and—."

"So," The raven haired male interrupted, "you're in a gang, and they've taken your leader. He doesn't need rescuing, but you're going to do it anyways?"

Yata's mouth flapped open and closed a couple of times before he vehemently shook his head. "Haven't you been listening to me?! We're not a _gang_! We're an _**organization **_that helps to stop gangs."

"Sort of like Robin Hood and his men, ne?"

The shorter male nodded.

"Then you are a gang." Kuroh responded bluntly. "Robin Hood and his men may have been doing things for the greater good, but that didn't change the fact that they were doing it by illegal means. Your 'organization' may be working to stop gang activity, but if you condone violence first, you're still a gang… only your gang seems to have morals."

The kendo captain stepped away from the chestnut haired gangster before he could explode in fury. "I'm afraid that this is where we must part ways. My sensei would never approve of me associating with gang members." He moved to spin on his heel, only to stop as a firm hand came down on his wrist, ceasing his movement.

"The hell you are." Yata snarled. He released the tall teen's wrist in favor of his tie, dragging Kuroh's head down a couple of inches so that they could meet eye to eye. "Listen here, I know that this isn't the best day of your life, but suck it up, stone-face. Why don't you take a moment to think this whole 'walk away' shit though? There were several men there on that street, and every single one of them saw you talking to me. Now think, what would they do if they saw your lanky ass walking through town on your own?" He paused for effect before plowing on. "They'd drag you even further into this than you already are; you'd be another person that I rescue rather than someone who helps. Now, judging by how uptight you are concerning, well—everything—I'm sure that you're going to want _some _sort of control of your destiny. What better way than to be by my side at their hideout?

"Besides, protecting you would be easier if you're next to me." Yata finished with a smirk, releasing Kuroh's uniform tie.

"Tsk." Kuroh pushed air out through his teeth as he moved to straighten his tie, a haughty expression slowly forming on his face as he lifted his head determinedly. "I don't require _your _protection, brat. I have a second degree black belt, and I'm the captain of the kendo team at my school. We rank second in the entire country."

It took all of Kuroh's self discipline to keep himself from strangling the brat then and there when he turned to see the chestnut haired male yawning and scratching his stomach with disinterest.

"That's cool and everything, stone-face, but in case you haven't noticed, our enemies have _guns_. Close combat doesn't do shit when they can shoot you from fifty meters away—and that's only counting handguns! I'm sure that they're going to be packing worse things at their base."

_…It's starting to seem like this temporary alliance is going to be inevitable… but I've still got one more card to play._ Kuroh turned towards the petite male, giving him a thorough onceover, making the action quite obvious. "Why does that mean that I'll survive any better with you? You don't have a gun, and if your gang is as good as you say; your gang doesn't use guns either. How will you combat these enemies of ours?"

"Ah, I was waiting for you to ask." Yata smirked, a dangerous expression appearing on his face. A single hand rose up to his shirt and tugged down at the collar, revealing an odd crimson tattoo. "It's pretty easy, actually."

Kuroh blinked. "And what does that—."

He nearly had a heart attack when the shorter male's smirk widened, and all of a sudden, Yata's entire _hand_ was encased in fire. Hazel hues were flickering wickedly in the unnatural light produced.

"We're HOMRA."

0—Two/End—0

A/N: Hehe. Thanx for reading.

Next chapter should be out in one to two weeks.


End file.
